Page 86 of The No Good Irresistible Viscount Tipton
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Devona awoke with a metallic taste in her mouth. She was lying on her stomach, her face resting on the most disgusting mattress she had ever encountered. That would account for the dreadful taste in her mouth, she grimly mused.
Lifting her head magnified the hammering pain at the back of her head to intolerable proportions. Resting her cheek on the mattress, she took deep breaths to fight off the rising nausea. It did not work. She vomited up a clear light green liquid. Only when her violent spasms dwindled to dry heaves did she lay her head back on the ruined mattress.
“I thought he had killed you.”
She slowly tilted her head up. So consumed by the pain and sickness, she did not recognize the man on the bed with her. Embarrassed that she had an audience for her sickness, she was appalled to see that she had thrown up not on the bedding but on the man’s legs.
“Forgive me. I could not move when the sickness came.”
The man appeared equally ill. He took his time to speak. “Your hands. Bound. Behind you.”
Listening to his halting words triggered her sluggish memory. “Doran?”
“Yes.” His breathing had a slight rattle to it. “So sorry, Dev.”
Tears stung her eyes. If the effort wouldn’t have aggravated her head, she would have cried. “Things are a little foggy for me, Doran. What happened after the roof dropped on my head?” Humor surfaced in the oddest places, but in this instance she did not smile. Itdidfeel as though the house had come down on top of her.
“He hit you.”
She assimilated the statement. She sorted through the “he’s” in her life who would have dared. Not Papa, she thought; he had not spanked her since she was a small child. Brock and Nyle were too busy living their own lives to bother her. Rayne? Ridiculous, he—
“Rayne struck me down,” she whispered, the idea taking root to fill in the holes in her memory. “He caught up with us. He tried to stop me from freeing you.” The horror of the memory made her feel sick all over again. “Oz?”
“Oz. Hit you.” Doran’s expression hardened, giving her the impression of white marble. “You. Expendable now.”
“How indelicately put, Claeg,” Oz Lockwood pronounced from the doorway. “Every lady enjoys the belief that we men would perish without their company. Even our independent, reckless Devona.” He made a small, disappointed noise when he noticed the mess she had made. “Not such the lady, it seems. I thought at first that I had killed you outright.”
She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to scream when he gripped her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position. The ceiling slammed into the wooden floor as she mentally tried to find her balance. Her breath came out as quick pants while she fought back another bout of nausea.
“Well done, my lady. I have always admired your fortitude.”
The dizziness she felt added to the unreality of the situation. “Oz, where is my husband?”
“I suppose his whereabouts depend on what you did when you received my note.” He sat on a crate. “I was gambling on you not confronting him. I had hoped the shock of learning about the black-hearted deeds of your husband would send you running off to save your childhood friend. Did you leave him a note damning him for his treachery or did you simply use my note to explain your sudden disappearance?”
Rayne was innocent. It also meant he was not coming to save her. He was probably half-crazed wondering what had happened to her. Devona closed her eyes, feeling the dual sharp prongs of shame and guilt. Empty-headed fool! He had warned her that someone was trying to tear them apart. She had refused to listen. Instead she had walked into a carefully laid trap. “I cannot recall.”
Oz stretched forward and calmly shoved her head so that it rebounded off the wall. Shooting stars streaked across her vision. Devona felt the bile rise in her throat.
“The truth, my dear.”
“I cannot. The blow to my head has confused me.” She winced when he reached for her again. “I will be fortunate to know my own name if you keep bashing my brains into pudding!”
The familiar smile he fixed on his face chilled her to the bone. She recognized evil when it was grinning at her, promising the pain had just begun.
She had to keep him talking. It would give her time to figure her way out of this mess. “I do not understand any of this. I thought we were friends. Was it because I married Rayne?”
Oz laughed. “Such conceit,” he mocked. “Your brains must be muddled. I was the one who pushed you toward Tipton.”
The swelling at the back of her head throbbed like the cadence of a drummer. Maybe she did have some of the facts wrong. However, she still had enough wits to not give Oz any information that could hurt Rayne. “Because of Doran?” she guessed.
“You are trying my patience, Devona.”
She glanced at Doran. He was conscious but in no better condition to help her. “Rayne said that Doran had left England. How did you learn that his death had been faked?”
Oz shook a finger at her. “I was surprised Tipton bothered rescuing your precious Doran. I would have left his worthless hide to rot in the ’Gate. But then I saw the genius of Tipton’s actions. He gets rid of a possible competitor for your affections and becomes the reluctant hero of your heart. Brilliant.”
